


Les Amis De L'Ordre Du Phénix

by emolee96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Marauder's Era, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:03:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emolee96/pseuds/emolee96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1978. Voldemort is rising to power, and Beauxbatons has burned, leaving only one survivor. Les Amis de l'ABC must spend their final year of school at Hogwarts. This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Amis De L'Ordre Du Phénix

“You nervous?” Combeferre asked Enjolras as they walked through King’s Cross Station.

“I mean, you know,” Enjolras shrugged. “It’s only one year, and all our friends are - oh hush, ‘Celsus, nobody asked for your opinion,” he scolded his owl. (whose full name was Aureolus Philippus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, but nobody ever called him that. Enjolras had shortened his name to Paracelsus during their first year, but most people just called the owl ‘Celsus.) He looked up at him from her cage and ruffled his snowy white feathers in what could only be called disgust.

Combeferre laughed. “You and that owl, Enj, I swear. But yeah, I know what you mean about this year. It probably won’t be that much different than before, it’s just weird that we’re not going back.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said quietly, “Where’s Courf? He said he would meet us here.” Just like that, the subject was changed. Combeferre didn’t really know what had happened that summer at Beauxbatons. All he knew was that Enjolras had showed up at his door in the middle of the night, his trunk and Paracelsus’ cage in hand. He hadn’t said much, only telling Combeferre, “They’re gone. Everything burned.” before falling silent for the next three weeks. Combeferre’s parents had set Enjolras up in the guest room, and he’d only come out to eat and shower. Then he’d burst into Combeferre’s room in the middle of the night to talk about the unjust use of Dementors in Azkaban, and it was like nothing had ever happened. Combeferre hadn’t said anything, figuring Enjolras would talk when and if he was ready. So they’d carried on as normal for the rest of the summer, and agreed to meet Courfeyrac at the platform so the three could start their final year of school, their first at Hogwarts, together.

“Guys, wait up!” Courfeyrac yelled across the station. He ran over to join them, practically knocking a few people over with his luggage. Buttercup, his (extremely vicious, despite her name) cat, hissed at him when she almost fell off.

“You’re late,” Combeferre told him.

“Nonsense. You said 10:30 and it is currently,” Courfeyrac checked his watch. “Just turning 10:31. I am perfectly on time.”

“Going to blame it on the cat again, no doubt,” Enjolras muttered.

“Well, hello to you too, dear leader,” Courfeyrac said to him, still completely cheerful. “And for your information, it was indeed the fault of the feline. Little Miss Sunshine and Daisies here was not having anything to do with her cage this morning. Tore up my curtains a fair bit, too, before I wrangled her in, the poor dear.”

Combeferre studiously ignored the comments about the cat. (She hated everyone. And everyone hated her. Well, except Courfeyrac. He loved her, but the feeling was decidedly not mutual.) “We should probably attempt to get to the platform now,” he told them, sneaking a look at Courfeyrac’s watch, “Or else we will be late. And I told Grantaire and the others we would find them before we got on the train so we could all sit together.”

“We’d best get going then. Only - 9 ¾? How on earth do we get to a platform called 9 ¾?” Enjolras asked. “Because here’s 9, and there’s 10,” he pointed,, ”So by simple logic, 9 ¾ should be between them, but it’s not.”

“By simple logic, we should ask someone then,” Courfeyrac said like it was perfectly obvious. (It was.) “What about them?” he pointed at a group of four boys near them, pushing luggage carts and already wearing the long black robes they had been told to buy, only theirs were slightly more worn, and they were all wearing red and gold striped ties instead of the black ones that had been on the shopping list they’d received in their letters.

“Excuse me!” Courfeyrac yelled to them, leaving his trunk and Buttercup in the safe care of Enjolras and Combeferre before running over to the group.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked.

“Yes, you can, actually, my name’s Courfeyrac, and - “

“Strange name, that,” one of the others commented.

“No stranger than yours, Sirius,” said the first. He pushed his messy dark hair out of his eyes. “James Potter at your service. That twat there is Sirius  Black,” he pointed to the second boy who had spoken, “And those two are Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.”

“And we don’t know you, and you’re not wearing House colors. Therefore you must be one of the new ones, correct?” said the one called Remus Lupin. Courfeyrac nodded. “Therefore you must need help finding the platform.”

“Well, it took you long enough,” Courfeyrac muttered. “But yes, we do. My friends and I, that is.”

“You’re just going to have to run at the wall between Nine and Ten,”” James told him. “Sounds stupid, I know, but I swear it’s true.”

Courfeyrac narrowed his eyes. “Funny story. I shouldn’t believe you.”

“Oh, yes, that’s hilarious,” Sirius muttered. Remus punched him in the arm.

“You really shouldn’t, I’m a terrible person at heart,” James agreed.

“But I do, so I’ll go tell ‘Jolras and ‘Ferre, then, thanks!” Courfeyrac sprinted back to his friends before they could say another word.

“Bit strange, that one.” Sirius observed.

James rolled his eyes. “Our best friend’s a genius and a werewolf, you turn into an ugly black dog, I turn into a deer, and that one’s a literal rat. I think we’ve won the category for weird.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like it! Next chapter should probably be up in a few days. I'm only tumblr at livingfortheolddeadlines if you want to come say hi!


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